


Catalyst

by alpha_exodus



Series: chemicals in flux [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Begging, Blow Jobs, Brothels, Falling In Love, Lace Panties, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Phone Sex, Porn With Plot, Rentboys, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 14:03:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7643440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alpha_exodus/pseuds/alpha_exodus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cat·a·lyst (noun): a substance that increases the rate of a reaction without being changed or consumed in the process.</p><p>Because Bitty's changed Kent into a state that he can never return from, and Kent can never resist setting things in motion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catalyst

**Author's Note:**

> First things first, I'd like to extend a huge thanks to des-zimbits (star-anise) for letting me borrow/modify some words! You may recognize the excerpt (beginning with "God, he’s amazing" and continuing until end of scene) from tumblr; you can read the original [here](http://des-zimbits.tumblr.com/post/147085671551/impulse). (Such lovely words! Go give lots of compliments!!) <3
> 
> Sooo, this is the bittyparse counterpart to [Impulse](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7415434) that ~~no one~~ yoursummerfrost ~~threatened~~ ~~begged~~ asked for, now with slightly less threesome and slightly less Jack! Thanks to her and also to calypso-mary for betaing and cheerleading!
> 
> This can be read as a standalone, but it works better in tandem with Impulse. Content-wise, there's rentboys and light sex slurs as well as a bit of angst.

“So you’re the birthday boy, hmm?”

Bitty turns amid the loud clatter of the party to see one of his coworkers leaning against the break room counter, wearing a backwards baseball cap and casually smirking in the dim light.

“Sure am,” Bitty smiles at him. “Parse, right?” He recognizes him solely by the messy cowlick that pokes through his cap.

“Yup,” Parse says, popping the ‘p’. “You can call me Kent, though,” he adds, winking.

Bitty’s eyebrows shoot up, because damn, this boy is flirty—not that he really minds, because Kent’s also fairly attractive. “You’ve sure got the charm turned on,” he grins, shifting his drink from one hand to the other. “It’s after hours now, y’know. No need.”

“Shit, you’re right. Habit,” Kent drops the smirk and laughs. “You go by Bitty, right? Do you have a name?”

“Eric,” Bitty says, accidentally wrinkling his nose as he says it.

“And I guess I’m not calling you that,” Kent catches on surprisingly quickly, and huh. He’s more perceptive than Bitty would’ve expected from someone who looks as laid back as he does. “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you around before—but not recently, yeah?”

“No, I don’t think our schedules match up too well.” Sometimes Bitty’s annoyed that their workplace tends to be so solitary; he’d love to get to know more people than just the ones who frequent the break room at the same time he does, but most of his time is spent with clients so he doesn’t have the chance to go out and chat with other coworkers. He tries to think back to the last time he’d noticed Kent around the building, and he’s surprised that he can recall it quite clearly—oh. Because that had been just after his session with Z. Come to think of it, he’s seen Kent the last few times he’s had a session with Z, so maybe—“Hmm, do you usually have an eight-o-clock on the first Thursday of the month?”

“You got it,” Kent nods in agreement. “You’ve got a regular then too?”

“Yeah, I—“ Bitty cuts off as just then, a drunk coworker that Bitty doesn’t know the name of shoves past him to reach for the vodka bottle that’s sitting on the counter. “Hey,” Bitty grumbles, though not loudly enough that the guy can hear it.

“Rude,” Kent says once the guy has taken his leave with the bottle. “Doesn’t he know it’s your party?”

“It’s not _really_ ,” Bitty shrugs. “Just an excuse for everyone to get drunk.”

“And fuck,” Kent adds.

Bitty snorts. “I have no idea _why_ , seeing as we kinda do that every day.”

“Eh, clients aren’t always that great,” Kent points out. “It’s nice to do it with someone who knows what they’re doing once in a while, you know?”

Bitty smirks at him. “Maybe you should get better clients.”

“Wow, shots fired,” Kent’s eyebrows shoot up. “Sassy. I like it.” Slowly, he smirks again.

Bitty stares at him in surprise, because this seems like—“Are you _hitting_ on me?” he asks, bewildered.

Kent looks him up and down and shrugs, the corner of his mouth tilting even further upwards. “Yeah, I am,” he says, but then his expression softens. “That okay?”

Bitty bites his lip. “U-um—yes,” he breathes, feeling fluttery all of a sudden. “But—why?” he asks, and Lord, he’s definitely flushing up a storm right now.

“You’re hella cute,” Kent grins. “And I dunno—whenever I see you around, you always look super satisfied. Makes me think you’re good in bed,” he explains cheekily.

Bitty raises an eyebrow. “There’s no way you can tell that just from a facial expression.”

Kent leans in closer, and Bitty’s embarrassed to realize his heart’s beating a little faster. “Maybe we should test my theory, then?” Kent asks, mischief glinting in his eye.

Stifling a smile with his hand, Bitty sets his drink on the counter. He was almost done with it anyway. “And how do I know that _you’re_ good in bed?”

“You’ll just have to trust me,” Kent replies smugly.

Bitty swallows and resists the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m the birthday boy, though. Wouldn’t it be gauche to leave the party early?”

“Oh, we can make it fast,” Kent assures him. “Besides—it’s okay as long as I’m giving you a present, right?”

A reluctant laugh escapes Bitty’s mouth. “Oh my God,” he mutters, and Kent cracks up.

“You make good faces,” Kent says, and he actually seems sincere until he follows up with, “I bet your O-face is even better, though.”

“Oh my _God_ , stop!” Bitty says again, shaking his head incredulously. But he’s chuckling and so is Kent, and no one’s paying them any attention whatsoever.

“So—what do you want for your birthday?” Kent shifts his weight, and Bitty can actually see the arousal in his eyes—it’s doing things to Bitty’s heart and also to his groin. Yeah, okay, Kent’s really hot, all lean muscle and playful expressions, and so what if Bitty sleeps with him? It _is_ his birthday, after all.

“Dangerous question,” Bitty smirks wryly.

Kent shrugs. “Shoot,” he gestures for Bitty to carry on anyway.

“I want you—“ Bitty starts, and then he leans forward until his lips are nearly brushing against Kent’s ear. Kent’s resulting shiver sends blood rushing to Bitty’s groin as he speaks—“I want you down on your knees, letting me fuck your mouth like you’re gagging for it,” he says, voice low and as sexy as he can make it.

Kent leans back a little, looking surprised. “Fuck, really?”

“Well, yeah,” Bitty says, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed—he’d said it mostly for dramatic effect, but if Kent’s gonna let him do it anyway then he’s not going to _object_ , even though he doesn’t usually play rough.

“Shit, okay,” Kent says, and the smirk has left his face in favor of breathy arousal. “Wanna go?”

Bitty’s limbs are starting to tingle; his heart’s pounding wildly in his chest, because this is the first time in ages that he’s been hit on for real and actually decided to go through with it. “Yeah,” he says, voice coming out thick.

Kent grins at him and pushes off the counter, weaving through their assorted coworkers and making for the door. Bitty follows, accidentally catching Lardo’s amused eye as he passes her, and damn, she’s gonna tease him like hell later.

It’s considerably quieter out in the hall. Kent pauses when they reach the two-way split. “Mine or yours?” he grins at Bitty.

Bitty chuckles and walks ahead of him. “Mine. Do you say that to everyone?”

“Nah,” Kent laughs behind him. “Only the ones who matter get a choice.”

Bitty feels almost giddy as he rummages in his pocket for his keys, unlocking the room he’s claimed for his usual use and flicking the lamps on as he walks in. “Are you saying I matter?”

“I mean, this is already the most fun I’ve had all week, so I’d say you matter at least a little bit,” Kent shrugs.

“Oh,” Bitty flushes—he hadn’t actually expected Kent to answer affirmatively. “Well, then,” he perches on the edge of the bed. “Knees.”

Kent’s eyes widen, and then he takes two steps forward until he’s standing in front of Bitty and drops so fast that his knees make an audible knocking sound against the floor.

Bitty’s hand flies to his mouth. “Lord, are you all right? That looked like it hurt!”

“Eh, it did a little bit,” Kent shrugs, then gives him an inquisitive look. “Wasn’t that the point?”

Bitty blinks at him, because—“Um. I haven’t actually, like, done this sorta thing before?”

“Like, being dominant?”

“Yeah. Well—“ Bitty looks to the side as he thinks about it, because he’s almost been heading in that direction with Z lately but it’s been nothing like how he’s acting with Kent. “Kind of, a little bit. But not like—rough with it, you know?”

“Ah,” Kent nods, then smiles at him, and the smile settles Bitty’s stomach before he’s even registered that it was busy knotting itself up. “Wanna practice on me?”

Bitty swallows, because that’s really tempting, and also because if he messes up he doesn’t have to worry about whether Kent will tip him enough at the end. “O-okay, yeah,” he nods slowly. “If you don’t mind?”

“I already said yes, didn’t I?” Kent grins at him.

Bitty takes a deep breath. “You can start by keeping that mouth of yours shut,” he crosses his arms, heart beating so hard he’s nearly shaking.

Simultaneously, Kent’s jaw clamps shut and his pupils dilate wildly. Bitty sees him nearly open his mouth to speak again, but then Kent reconsiders and bites his lip instead and _God_ there’s heat pricking all up and down Bitty’s spine.

Bitty stands, gesturing at his own pants, trying not to show the nervousness he feels. “Well? What’re you waiting for?”

Kent shivers and immediately has his hands on Bitty’s belt, undoing it deftly along with the zip of his jeans. Then Kent is rolling Bitty’s pants down his legs, just enough so he can pull at Bitty’s boxers, and Bitty’s been undressed so many times before but Lord, it doesn’t usually make his heart race like this.

Except with Z. Always with Z. It’s embarrassing how much Bitty’s attracted to him, honestly, and every time they’re together he spends all of it hoping Z can’t tell. But this isn’t Z. This is different, this is _real_ , and even if Kent only wants a one-off, he chose Bitty, didn’t he? So Bitty’s allowed to feel happy about it.

Then Kent pulls Bitty’s cock out. It bobs toward Bitty’s stomach from where it had been caught in the waistband of his boxers, and Kent takes it in hand with an aroused quirk of his lips. Bitty shivers, has to close his eyes for a moment because it’s not often that people look at him like that, like they want to make _him_ feel good instead of the other way around. He realizes he kind of misses Kent’s voice, so he opens his eyes and asks, “You want to suck me, don’t you? You can talk.”

“Yeah, I do,” Kent says, and he sounds just a little too recalcitrant.

“Then beg me for it,” Bitty says, because this is the game they’re playing and it’s actually really fun—and also really fucking sexy. Lord.

Kent gives him an intense look. “Fuck, that should not be as hot as it is,” he mutters.

Bitty leans closer. “Beg. Me.”

This time Kent actually moans, and Bitty can feel that Kent’s hand on his cock is shaking—wow. Lord, Kent likes this, he likes it a lot, and Bitty—Bitty likes it too, enough that he has to hold himself back from thrusting into Kent’s fist. “Fuck, God, okay. Please let me suck your fucking cock?” Kent says roughly, cheeks red.

“Beg nicely,” Bitty amends, cocking an eyebrow.

“Fine— _please_? Please let me suck your cock, Bitty, I want it so bad,” Kent nearly whimpers, and Bitty has to stifle a moan at the sincerity of it.

“You want me—um,” he stumbles, but clears his throat and continues—“You want me to fuck your mouth?” And he’d said the same thing earlier, but it’s different now with Kent on his knees in front of him looking intense and vulnerable, looking so aroused it’s almost like _he’s_ the one about to get his dick sucked.

“ _Yes_ ,” Kent hisses, and then Bitty steps forward until the tip of his cock nearly brushes against Kent’s lips.

“I gotta—get a condom,” Bitty murmurs, voice strained.

“Yeah,” Kent nods, dropping his hands from Bitty’s body, and Bitty’s heart clenches at how desperately he wants Kent’s hands back on him. He sheds his pants and boxers from around his legs as he walks over to the basket of condoms, then shrugs out of his shirt too. “Fuck, you’re good at that,” he hears Kent say.

“What, stripping?” Bitty smirks wryly, plucking a condom from the basket.

Kent laughs. “Well, yeah, but not what I was going for—I meant ordering me around.”

“Really?” Bitty asks, and he’s sort of broken character but then so has Kent.

He turns and Kent’s smiling. “Yeah. Do you like it?”

“It’s—“ Bitty tilts his head, looking for the right words. “Yeah, I like it. It’s kind of a rush, and—um. And you’re really hot,” he flushes.

Kent winks at him. “I know,” he says, and Bitty throws him a wry look.

He sighs, though, as a thought occurs to him while he’s walking back over to the bed. “I feel kinda bad though, like—should we have talked about this more beforehand?”

“Probably,” Kent gives a short laugh. “Do you wanna?”

“Umm,” Bitty sighs, because he wants to but he’s also so damn hard it hurts.

“Or,” Kent stretches his arms out behind him, “I can just tell you if you’re going too far, and we can talk about it later?”

“That might work,” Bitty murmurs, sitting on the bed facing Kent. “But you will tell me if I do something wrong, right?”

“Yeah. Promise,” Kent smiles.

And to Bitty’s surprise, seeing Kent smile like that makes his heart catch—he wants to watch him smile more, instead of the half smirk he usually wears. Lord, Bitty knows what this feels like—the shaky beginnings of a crush pulsing in his heart, making him feel warm and affectionate and lovely.

It feels like when he’d started crushing on Z, all those months ago.

He wonders if he should feel bad about starting to like someone else, but crushes like his on Z only go places in dreams—Z always gives him the strangest look whenever Bitty gets too sappy, as if the desire in Bitty’s eyes is making him uncomfortable. Those looks never fail to leave Bitty a little sad because everything else feels almost real—they kiss and touch nearly like lovers, but Bitty thinks that’s only a trick of time.

But Kent is right in front of him. Kent, who flirted with him because he wanted to, who’s willing to experiment and is looking at Bitty with an almost tender smile on his face—oh. Lord. He’ll have to wait and see if he really, truly likes him, but—maybe, just maybe.

“Hey,” Kent says softly, pulling Bitty from his thoughts. “Can I kiss you?”

And oh God, his chest is fluttering in full force. Yep. He’s falling, just a little bit. “Yes,” he sighs out, and Kent stands and leans over him and presses their mouths together so softly Bitty wants to cry. It’s been nearly a month since his last time with Z, nearly a month since he’s had a kiss that has something other than sloppy lust in it. This is like heaven, Kent nibbling at his lower lip until Bitty opens for him and lets him in, moans into Kent’s open mouth as their tongues slide together.

Bitty shivers when they break apart, and Kent’s grinning at him as he opens his eyes. “What?”

“You’re cute, you’re funny, and you kiss like you mean it,” Kent murmurs, knocking his forehead against Bitty’s. “And you’ve got a mouth on you, too.”

Bitty flushes. “Yeah?” he says, when Kent doesn’t explain after a moment.

“Almost makes me wanna take you home,” Kent whispers, and then he presses Bitty’s words away with his lips even though Bitty wants to ask about what he’d said—but then Bitty’s hips lift from the bed involuntarily as Kent starts kissing him harder.

“ _Ohh_ ,” Bitty moans, and then they break apart and he’d wanted to say something important but now he’s forgotten—and now Kent is on his knees again, oh _God_.

“Want me to strip?” Kent asks, reaching for the condom Bitty had brought it over. Bitty has to close his eyes as Kent rolls it over him.

“Maybe later,” Bitty sighs, because he really really wants Kent’s mouth on him. Not that he doesn’t want to see Kent naked, but—later.

“Okay,” Kent says. Smirking, he pulls his hat off, reaching up and placing it backwards on Bitty’s head.

“What was that for?”

“I like having my hair pulled,” Kent murmurs huskily.

Bitty’s heart gives an enthused flip. His hips thrust upwards again of their own accord, and God, he wants this so badly. “Fuck,” he sighs, leaning forward and twining his fingers into Kent’s hair. “Like this?”

“Mm, yeah—a little harder if you want. Fuck. Can I suck you?”

And now they’re falling into roles again and Bitty’s heart is pounding—“Tell me how much you want it first,” he instructs, voice rough.

“Fuck, Bitty. I want your cock in my mouth. I want it so bad, I want you to push it down my throat and fuck it into me like—mmph!” Kent groans as Bitty hitches his hips forward, just enough so that his cock presses against Kent’s lips, and then Kent opens for him and takes him in, and Bitty’s positively vibrating with lust and adrenaline and Kent’s hair between his fingers and slick, wet heat, _oh_.

“L-like that?” he murmurs shakily, because it’s hard to be commanding when he’s falling apart.

Kent makes an affirmative noise, then pulls off briefly, gasping. “You can—don’t be afraid to push, yeah? I don’t really have a gag reflex,” he explains, and Bitty lets a whimper escape his lips as Kent sucks him down again.

This time Bitty grips the edge of the bed with one hand and slowly, slowly starts fucking Kent’s mouth. Kent holds himself still and takes it, and suddenly Bitty’s all the way inside and he can feel his cock pressing against the back of Kent’s throat and _fuck_ , that should be impossible, but Kent doesn’t look like he’s hurting—his eyes are closed, and when Bitty pulls back and presses back in again he lets out a moan like he’s hungry for it.

“Holy shit,” Bitty whimpers, pulling back so Kent can breathe, and Kent shudders and gives a small nod when he’s ready. Bitty shifts his leg so that it’s between Kent’s as he pushes in again—and now he can _feel_ how hard Kent is, God. Kent starts rutting against his leg, moaning recklessly as Bitty slides himself in and out of Kent’s mouth, and the vibrations do things to Bitty’s body that threaten to break him into pieces. “That’s so good—I’m close, I’m close,” Bitty warns, and then Kent moves, sucking him down deep—the pleasure rises up in him and crashes over, wet heat pulsing in his cock and making him sob. His hand, twisted in Kent’s hair, goes slack, but Kent groans and shudders and keeps sucking him, working him through until Bitty has to push Kent away because it’s too sensitive.

Breathing hard, Bitty looks down at Kent and Kent seems embarrassed—“Was that okay?” Bitty asks, suddenly worried.

“Yeah, definitely,” Kent assures him, voice weak, then flushes. “I—I came.”

Bitty’s eyes widen. “Oh,” he says, because that’s _really_ hot. “Sorry, I was gonna—touch you?” he tugs at Kent’s hand, and Kent sits next to him on the bed, the fabric of his t-shirt brushing against Bitty’s heated skin.

“No worries,” Kent says breathily, and he looks worn out so Bitty wraps his arms around him, letting Kent’s head fall into his shoulder. “I haven’t come from dry humping in a long time, shit,” Kent mumbles into his collarbone.

Bitty rubs his back, feels Kent’s breathing slow back to normal levels. “Is that a bad thing?” he asks.

“Nah, I just—don’t normally let myself go like that, I guess,” Kent says after a pause.

And Bitty feels it then, the warm trust Kent’s placed in his hands and left there for Bitty to take care of. He closes his eyes and presses a kiss into Kent’s hair, feels Kent chuckle into his skin and grins in return. “I’m glad you did. I—wouldn’t mind doing that again?” he says slowly.

“Good,” Kent looks up at him then, seeming more awake than before. “I’ll look forward to it.” Then Kent leans into him and kisses him, and Bitty basks in the tentative fluttering that Kent’s mouth awakens in his chest.

xXx

It’s a pity he doesn’t see Bitty around more often, Kent thinks, because when he sees Bitty it usually means that Bitty will have sex with him if they’ve both got time. And Kent looks forward to sex with Bitty more than most things in his life (even though it’s only happened a handful of times), including watching hockey and catching up on his trashy reality TV shows of choice.

But Kent’s learned so much about Bitty during stolen moments in the break room that it’s almost like they’ve been friends for ages—Bitty’s told him why he hates his name and his favorite kind of dessert, and they’ve gossiped about clients that made them cringe until Kent’s dying of laughter from Bitty’s stories. If anything, Kent just wants to talk to him some more. Of course, he _could_ text him. He has his number. But part of Kent always wonders if Bitty actually has any real desire to talk to him, because although the sex is spectacular they’ve never exactly done anything beyond than that.

And Bitty has—his boy. They’d discussed him before, because the cheerful smile Bitty sports after he’s done with those sessions is more than just a smile from a good lay or a large tip, enough to make Kent stop Bitty and ask about him.

“It’s—a regular of mine,” Bitty had said. And Kent had nodded along while Bitty had chattered about him, calling him funny and careful and kind of dorky but in a good way, because Kent had seen it in Bitty’s eyes—Bitty most definitely has feelings for whoever this is.

And that’s—that’s okay.

Kent’s not selfish enough to try to steal Bitty away for himself—okay, well, he is. But he’s not _seriously_ trying. And maybe if he really tried, maybe Bitty would fall for him, but—Kent’s not going to try that hard, because—well. If Bitty’s boy has the ability to put such a blissful smile on Bitty’s face, then Kent doesn’t want to interfere with that. He likes seeing Bitty smile—it settles him somehow, makes it feel like maybe the world isn’t such a bad place if Bitty can smile so openly like that.

But because Kent’s selfish, he’s going to sleep with Bitty until Bitty says he wants to stop. Kent likes to imagine that Bitty’s happiness from his boy carries over to his time with Kent, even if it’s only a little. Sometimes he daydreams about Bitty smiling like that for Kent, like maybe if he tells a funny enough joke, Bitty will look at him like that—it hasn’t happened yet, but he thinks it just might make his day if it does.

So he doesn’t usually text Bitty, because honestly, texting Bitty would probably make this all worse for him, would make him want Bitty until he wouldn’t have a chance of stopping. And he’s been doing a really good job of not texting Bitty until _right the fuck now_.

Because right now he’s sitting in his client room without his clothes on and Jack’s just left and—holy _fuck_ , Bitty’s boy is Jack Zimmermann. Holy fuck. Jack Zimmermann as in the Jack who just won the Stanley two seasons ago— _holy shit_.

And Kent somehow hadn’t fucking realized that Jack is the boy who Bitty’s in love with until nearly the end of the session—how the hell had he missed that? ‘ _A regular of Bitty’s_ ’, Lardo had said. Kent should’ve _known_. Tonight’s the night he usually sees Bitty with that smile on his face, and the time matches up perfectly—but all he’d been thinking about when he’d gotten the call from Lardo was how Bitty was gone and how Kent wouldn’t be able to see him today, wouldn’t get his monthly long chat in the breakroom, nor the amazing sex afterwards.

Then he’d gotten distracted for a different reason, because it had been _Jack_ _Zimmermann_ , and once Kent had gotten over being star-struck he’d realized that Jack was really, really fun. Like, someone Kent might have wanted to take home, if Jack wasn’t a client.

Fuck. Maybe this would’ve gone differently if Kent had known Jack was Bitty’s from the get-go.

Maybe he wouldn’t have let himself hope for something more.

And maybe he wouldn’t have—shit, he’d lied to Jack too, hadn’t he? Jack had called him _Kent_ and Kent had _reacted_ , and then his first impulse had been to cover that up because—it had felt so good because it reminded him of Bitty, and he wasn’t interested in letting any old client know that. So he’d told him that it was just because he hasn’t slept with anyone who calls him that in a long time, when in reality he does, it’s Bitty, always Bitty, Bitty’s voice moaning his name and making him come completely undone, God. He’s so fucked.

He shoves his boxers on and digs his phone from the pocket of his jeans. Hell, maybe he should be glad he hadn’t known who Jack was to Bitty—he might not have agreed to it all if he had. Because, fuck—what if Bitty’s mad at him? Fuck. Nothing is worth that.

The thought of Bitty’s anger (or even worse, disappointment) has his hand shaking as he types up a text, and he takes a second to calm himself the fuck down because no matter what Bitty says, panicking won’t help.

He presses send. He might be panicking just a little bit.

 _Kent:_  
_hey so I know ur on vacation but I think I might’ve just slept with that regular you really like_  
_???_

He debates on adding a ‘ _sorry_ ’ but decides against it. There’s still a slim chance Bitty’s not actually angry with him.

His phone buzzes as he’s putting his shoes on, and seeing Bitty’s name on the unopened text sends a thrill running through his spine even though he’s so fucking nervous that it takes him three tries to get his foot into the shoe.

_Bitty:  
What???_

Fuck, fuck, Bitty’s mad, isn’t he? Distress pulses in Kent’s chest, but his phone buzzes again before he can do anything about it.

 _Bitty:_  
_Wait how did you know who he was?_  
_Shit I forgot to tell him I was leaving didn’t I_

Kent swallows. Maybe Bitty’s not mad—he can’t tell yet.

 _Kent:_  
_it was the right timeslot_  
_yeah haha_

 _Bitty:_  
_ohhh right_  
_So… how was it? :)_

Kent blinks at his phone. Is that _it_?

He takes a minute to calm himself down. Bitty doesn’t even seem annoyed—huh. That’s better than he’d expected. Of course, now he has to think of a _response_ —and, okay, that’s not hard either. The sex had been fucking fantastic.

For the first time since he’d realized that Jack was Bitty’s, he closes his eyes and lets himself relive the last couple of hours, lets himself think of droopy eyes and playful grins and how absolutely fucking sexy Jack had been. Jack is—God. Kent is insanely attracted to him, and he knows part of that is because he’d known from the get go that Bitty’s touched him, so having Jack was like some sort of weird, illogical proxy for being with Bitty. But the rest of it—it’s all Jack, with the lilt of his accent and the cautiousness of his smile, and how when Jack had opened up it’d been like a flower blooming, filling the room with color.

Kent had really, really liked it.

But will Bitty be jealous if Kent tells him how much he enjoyed it? He hopes not.

 _Kent:_  
_ah, shit, uhh_  
_it was really really good_

For a while, Bitty doesn’t text back, and worry starts to gnaw at Kent’s gut. But then his phone buzzes as he’s driving home, several times in quick succession, and he almost trips up the stairs to his apartment as he’s trying to read them.

 _Bitty:_  
_Sorry I was at dinner! I’m really glad :)_  
_That’s actually umm_  
_really really hot_

Ohhhhh fuck. That’s really—well. Now he’s thinking about Bitty thinking about him with Jack, and maybe Bitty’s even touching himself, and—all right, there goes anything productive Kent could’ve done with his night, because he’s pretty sure he’s going to spend the whole time jerking off and thinking about Bitty’s body, and maybe Jack as well. And maybe sexting. He really hopes there’s sexting.

 _Kent:_  
_yeah?_  
_pretty sure they gave him to me because i look like you_

And then, because he’s still a little nervous, he adds:

_Kent:  
you’re not mad right?_

_Bitty:_  
_hahahaha oh gosh well, they aren’t wrong_  
_I guess we do look pretty similar_  
_Oh no! Of course I’m not mad!_  
_If anything I’m happy that it was you? Does that make sense?_  
_Like_  
_I trust you to take care of him out of anyone :)_

Kent’s spine tingles at that. He slouches onto the couch, for once not turning the TV on as he thumbs in a reply.

_Kent:  
well in that case… any time_

He adds a sunglasses emoji and then types another message.

 _Kent:_  
_seriously tho it was really hot_  
_also he said we could talk about him if we wanted_

_Bitty:  
Hmm talk about him how?_

_Kent:  
like… talk about how I rode him until we both came_

_Bitty:  
oh my God Kent I’m in public_

Kent stifles a laugh and sends him an ‘ _oops, sorry!’_

  _Bitty:_  
_it’s okay :)_  
_I bet you’re not really that sorry anyway hahaha_  
_….okay I’m not in public anymore_

_Kent:  
oh no I didn’t mean to make you leave whatever you were doing_

_Bitty:_  
_I was gonna go to bed soon anyway_  
_Also tbh I would much rather be doing this than listening to my friends drunk-argue haha_

_Kent:  
well in that case…_

Fuck, yes. Idly sliding his hand down to cup his slowly-hardening erection through his jeans, Kent considers what to say next.

_Kent:  
his eyes got so dark when he was watching me finger-fuck myself_

_Bitty:_  
_fuck_  
_I’m jealous_

Kent swallows against a sudden lump in his throat because of _course_ Bitty’s jealous, because Kent’s just slept with his favorite client and maybe he shouldn’t be describing it in detail—

_Bitty:  
I wanna watch you finger yourself next time…_

Ohhhh fuck. Kent’s so fucked. Bitty’s jealous of _Jack_ , holy shit, Kent’s so gone—he hadn’t expected that.

 _Kent:_  
_I’d let you_  
_;)_

_Bitty:  
Have you showered yet?_

Kent frowns at his screen—huh?

_Kent:  
no why?_

_Bitty:  
does that mean you’re still all wet and loose for me?_

Oh God. Fucking hell, yes, probably—maybe not loose, but he could get there easy.

_Kent:  
yes…_

_Bitty:  
you said you have a toy at home right?_

_Kent:_  
_fuck_  
_yes_

_Bitty:  
wanna fuck yourself on it?_

Kent lets out a frustrated moan as he hops up from the couch, because he’s never wanted Bitty more than he does right this second. Fuck, if only Bitty could come over—but Bitty’s at the beach in California somewhere, and Kent decidedly is not.

He doesn’t realize he’d forgotten to reply until he’s shed his clothes and is lying on his back in bed, his vibrator at his side. Shit.

_Kent:  
i’m gonna get myself ready for it now_

_Bitty:_  
_oh good I thought you had maybe fallen asleep_  
_Kent you’re so sexy_

Kent doesn’t bother pretending that his heart doesn’t jump at the compliment.

 _Kent:_  
_I know ;)_  
_should I pretend it’s you or your boy?_

He’d nearly typed _Jack_ , but had backspaced once he’d remembered that Bitty doesn’t actually know Jack’s name yet.

 _Bitty:_  
_oh gosh_  
_umm I really want you right now_  
_but you can pretend it’s him if you want_

Bitty wants him. Part of Kent wants nothing more than to listen to Bitty say he wants him all the time—fuck, he wants Bitty to like him more than he wants to admit.

Yeah, okay, so his—he hesitates to call it a crush, because is it really possible to have a crush on someone you’re also fucking?—his feelings for Bitty have gotten out of hand, and he’s not quite sure how that’d happened. Bitty’s somehow opened him up and crawled into his heart and he won’t fucking leave, piercing him with nothing more than a happy smile and a warm soul and an absolute willingness to control him in bed. Not that Kent wants him to leave. He really likes having Bitty around, but—chances are that Bitty will end up leaving anyway, whether Kent wants him to or not.

Heart in his mouth, he types out a response.

 _Kent:_  
_I really want you too_  
_might be slow at replying, don’t wanna get lube all over my phone_

_Bitty:  
hmm can I call you?_

Kent doesn’t even have to think before scrambling to type out ‘ _yes_ ’. Bitty’s voice is—fuck. He’d been neutral on southern accents until he’d first heard Bitty’s voice at that party, and it doesn’t help that now he associates it with sex—and with Bitty in general.

His phone buzzes, and he answers the call, feeling jittery as he positions his phone between his shoulder and his ear. “Hey,” he says, hopefully coming off much more put-together than he actually is.

“Hiya,” Bitty drawls softly as Kent reaches for the lube, making him shiver.

“You rang?” Kent manages to slick up his fingers without making a mess of himself, and it’s trickier with the phone on his shoulder but at least now he can use two hands.

“I sure did,” Bitty says, and Kent can hear the smile in his words. “I gotta talk kinda quietly cuz these walls are thin, but—I really wanted to hear you.”

Kent lets his eyes slip shut. “God, Bitty—yeah. Me too.” He slides his fingers down, presses two in because he’s still slick from earlier and sighs at the feeling.

“Whatcha doing?” Bitty murmurs, sounding like he knows all too well what Kent’s doing.

“I’ve—got two fingers inside me,” Kent tells him, voice straining slightly with exertion.

“Ohhh, Lord,” Bitty sighs, and Kent hears him shifting on the other side of the phone. “Was he good for you today?” he asks, and Kent knows immediately who he means by that. _Jack_.

Kent gives a strangled groan as he slips a third finger in, relishing the muted burn. “Y-yeah, he was, Bits—I can see why you like him.”

“He calls me ‘Bits’ sometimes,” Bitty murmurs laughingly.

Kent chuckles at that. “Yeah, I stole it from him.”

Bitty laughs again, then sighs in a way Kent already knows all too well—fuck, he’s touching himself, isn’t he? “You almost ready for the toy?” Bitty asks.

“Yes,” Kent hisses, and fuck, he really wants Bitty to tell him what to do.

As if reading his mind, Bitty doesn’t disappoint. “Slick it up for me, Kent.”

“Shit, okay,” Kent barely keeps his voice from coming out as a whimper, grabbing for the toy and managing to spread lube over it without dropping anything. “I did.”

“You on your back?” Bitty’s voice is breathy.

“Yeah,” Kent sighs.

“Spread yourself open and put it against you—don’t push it in yet.”

Kent obeys, breath hitching at the slick coolness of the silicon. He’s used the toy many times but never like this, never with someone at the other end of the phone line, guiding it into him. “Okay.”

“What do you want?” Bitty asks.

 _You_ , Kent thinks. But instead he says, “I want it inside me, Bits.”

“Go ahead,” Bitty says.

Kent lets out a quiet sob as he pushes it in, thinking of Jack only hours earlier, thinking of Bitty when he’d fucked Kent just once, months ago, and Kent feels so, so full—“Fuck,” he whimpers.

“Is it bigger than him or smaller?” Bitty’s voice is soft, probing, but beneath that Kent can still tell that Bitty’s getting close.

“Umm—bigger, I think,” he murmurs shakily. He’d gotten a large one on purpose so he wouldn’t be tempted to put it in without working himself open first—it wouldn’t do to hurt himself, not with the career he’s in.

“Does it vibrate?”

“Yes.”

“Is it all the way in?”

“Y-yes,” Kent swallows, his groin feeling like it’s on fire.

“Turn it on,” Bitty instructs, and Kent fumbles for the switch and lets out a high-pitched groan when he finds it.

“Oh God, _Bits_.”

Bitty lets out a whimper. “Are you touching yourself?”

“No, n-not my dick,” Kent says, because last time Bitty had told him, _“Don’t touch yourself until I say so,”_ and Kent had trusted him and it had been so fucking incredible.

“Good,” Bitty purrs. “Are you fucking yourself with the vibrator yet?”

“N-no,” Kent shivers.

“Go ahead,” Bitty says, and then, “I want you to angle it up against your prostate, if you can.”

Kent whimpers his assent, and then he cants his hips upwards and oh _oh fuck fuck_ , “Bitty, Bits, fuck I’m so close, Bits,” he gasps out, fucking the vibrator into himself and squeezing his eyes shut. They both know he can’t quite come from anal stimulation alone, but God he’s so keyed up that he almost thinks he could right now, if only Bitty were actually here, fuck.

Then Bitty starts talking and Kent lets the words wash over him. “I bet you look so good with that in you. You want it so bad, don’t you? You wanna touch yourself?”

“ _Please_ ,” Kent sobs.

“Do it, Kent,” Bitty says, and then Kent reaches between his legs and gives himself three desperate jerks before crying out, spilling onto his own stomach, clenching around the vibrator as he comes until every last drop of energy has been wrung from his body.

He pulls the vibrator out, stretching over and dropping it onto a towel that’s lying in the floor—he’ll deal with it later. Moments later, he hears a stifled moan on the other end of the phone—the sound of Bitty coming sends an aftershock rippling through his body. “Fuck, you’re so hot,” he whines softly, the words taking the place of the ‘ _I miss you’_ that’s pulsing in his chest.

Bitty laughs, and it’s the giggly, unbridled laugh he sometimes has after a really good orgasm, fuck. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

“That was honestly the best phone sex of my life,” Kent admits, because it was, God, and now his heart hurts. _I miss you, I miss you._

“I’ve never actually done that before,” Bitty says softly.

“Really?” Kent blinks, rolling to the side so he’s not lying in a pool of his own sweat anymore. He really needs a shower.

“Nope, just sexting. But that was—really, _really_ good,” Bitty says, and Kent can feel him glowing even through the phone.

“Whoever you do it with next is gonna have a lot to live up to,” Kent chuckles, hoping he doesn’t sound bitter. He’s not, really. It’ll probably be _Jack_ , if things go as Kent thinks they will. And that’s—that’s okay. He likes Jack too, and—he and Bitty will be happy together.

Bitty makes an odd noise. “Yeah,” he whispers, and then the line is quiet for a few moments. “I should really be gettin’ to bed,” he yawns finally.

“Same. Gotta shower,” Kent says, and then he catches Bitty’s yawn and they both chuckle.

“Good night. Take a nice shower for me, okay?” Bitty says, and there’s a wistful quality in his voice that nearly matches how Kent’s feeling—huh.

“I will,” he promises.

xXx

“Kent!” Bitty backtracks around the corner, where he’d just glimpsed a flash of bright blond hair. “Hey!”

“Hey, Bits,” Kent sees him and walks down the hall toward him, his face morphing very quickly through surprise to a light smirk. “You’ve got more freckles.”

“Shush, I was at the beach,” Bitty rolls his eyes playfully, and now they’re standing right in front of each other and—should they hug? Bitty wants to hug him, but Kent’s standing a careful distance away and maybe he doesn’t want to? His eyes trail briefly over Kent’s arms—he knows what it feels like to hug him, and God, he wants it, but—if Kent doesn’t want to, he won’t.

“I bet work is boring in comparison, now,” Kent leans casually against the wall, and Bitty forces his thoughts back so he can respond.

“Maybe just a little bit,” he says, and that’s a lie because work has _Kent_ and Bitty’s never bored when he’s around. “Speaking of work, I don’t normally see you around now, right? Random scheduling?”

“New regular in a few minutes, actually,” Kent lifts his shoulder in a one-armed shrug. “Not terrible, not great—you know. Weekly, though, which is always nice for tips.”

Bitty brightens. “I’ve got a weekly now too,” he grins, elated because that means seeing Kent more than ever. A thought suddenly occurs to him—“You were looking at my schedule, weren’t you?” he smirks.

Kent laughs. “I might’ve peeked. Uh, that doesn’t—bother you, right?”

“Nah,” Bitty shrugs, because he’d spent his whole first year rearranging his schedule so he could work shifts at the same time as the hot guy in the room next to him (although nothing had ended up happening, unfortunately) so he can’t really talk. Besides—“We’re friends, aren’t we? So it’ll be nice to see you more.” _Friends_ , he says, because he’s not sure what this is, because Kent might not want things to go further than that.

“That’s why I did it,” Kent says, and the fond smile on his face makes Bitty’s spine tingle.

They stand there for a second during which Bitty is pretty sure he looks a little love-struck—and oh Lord, he’s pretty sure his crush on Kent has just gotten about three times larger.

“I really should be on time for this,” Kent says wryly, and Bitty chuckles.

“Go be not-late,” he grins.

Kent’s eyes widen, and Bitty wonders why—oh. The command. Oh.

He blushes hard. “That wasn’t—not like, an order, you know?” he says, and Kent has a flush of his own at that.

“Yeah, I know—sorry,” Kent looks embarrassed.

“No no, it’s okay,” Bitty assures him. “You really—thought sex things when I said that?”

“Shit, yeah, I did,” Kent scratches behind his ear. “Just—the tone of voice, I guess.”

Oh—wow. The thought makes Bitty feel kind of breathless. “Is it—was it okay? I can try not to say things with that voice if you don’t want me to.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kent shakes his head. “It’s kinda hot.”

“Okay,” Bitty says, laughing softly, the breathlessness spinning in his chest. “Then—I better see you in the break room later,” he says as sternly as he can manage with a smile on his face.

Kent’s eyebrows shoot up. “Fuck, yeah, okay,” he mumbles, and Bitty revels on the blush on his cheeks. “Hey—can I get a hug?”

Bitty’s heart nearly stops.

Kent wants to hug him, Kent wants to touch him, thank _God_ —“Y-yeah, of course,” he steps forward, and his voice betrays him only slightly as he pushes his face into Kent’s shoulder, Kent’s arms folding around him.

Bitty’s missed him. Bitty’s missed him so much there’s an ache in his chest, just like the interim between the times he sees Z, Lord.

When Kent pulls away, it feels much too soon. “See you in a while, then?” Bitty murmurs, forcing a smile onto his face. If Kent meets him in the break room later then he’s pretty sure they’re going to have sex, and Bitty would really, really, like that.

“Yeah, see you,” Kent grins, pushing himself off the wall, and then Bitty watches Kent head down the hallway, heartbeat quickening in anticipation for later.

xXx

Kent stares at his phone in disbelief. He scrubs at his eyes as if that will change the words on his screen, but no—they stay the same, even after several strong blinks. He rereads them again, thinking that maybe the meaning will change. It doesn’t.

 _Bitty:_  
_Hey, I couldn’t find you tonight! Did your schedule change? :(_  
_Anyway I just had my session with Jack, and, um_  
_So I sort of suggested that we maybe have a threesome_  
_And obviously we don’t have to if you don’t want to_  
_But I really would like it if you did_  
_Jack would too_

Holy fuck.

Holy _fuck_.

Sex with _both_ of them, _shit_.

Not only would that probably be the hottest thing Kent’s ever done, he’s pretty sure it would completely undo him, because watching Bitty love on Jack is almost certainly going to be really fucking painful.

Not that he’s gonna say no to this, of course.

He couldn’t say no, not after how fantastic Jack had been. Not with the part of Kent that’s a little masochistic sitting in his chest, urging him to find out how Jack and Bitty really feel about each other. And maybe if he sees it with his own eyes then his longing for Bitty will go _away_ —or maybe it’ll get stronger. Either way, he’s still a little bit fucked, but he’s going to take what he can get right now.

He has to reply. He types words in and erases them a couple of times, because he keeps sounding too eager, and finally he settles for responding to Bitty’s first message before anything else—and huh, Bitty knows Jack’s name now. That’s something.

 _Kent:_  
_yeah my reg moved away. it’s why he canceled last month haha_  
_…alsooo hell yes_

The commercial break on his TV is over, but Kent’s stopped paying attention to his show—he’s far more interested in staring at his phone and waiting for Bitty to respond.

_Bitty:  
Oh good ;)_

Kent lies down with his head on the arm of the couch, briefly closing his eyes. A threesome. Shit.

_Kent:  
…so were u guys talking about me?_

_Bitty:_  
_Maaaaaybe_  
_I told him you and I are friends and that we’d been messing around_

Messing around. Kent supposes that’s how he would’ve put it too, but he sort of wishes there was another way to describe it that would convey just how fucking much he likes doing this with Bitty.

_Bitty:  
I think he likes you :)_

Oh. Jack likes him. That’s something. Kent doesn’t know what _kind_ of something, but it makes him feel a little warm nonetheless.

_Kent:  
of course he does. not to brag but i definitely blew his mind last time ;)_

_Bitty:_  
_hahaha_  
_I can believe that_  
_He was more assertive today and it was really hot_

Shit, okay, if this is going to lead where he thinks it is (aka more sexting) then Kent is definitely down.

_Kent:  
oh really? tell me about it ;)_

_Bitty:_  
_he wanted me to bite him which I’m pretty sure was your fault haha_  
_also he held me down and fucked me really hard_  
_oh my God it was so good, Kent_

 _Kent:_  
_…fuuuuckk_  
_do you like that sort of thing? being held down and stuff?_

He wonders about it, because so far Bitty has definitely been the dominant one in their relationship, so much that Kent hadn’t even spared a thought to trying it the other way around.

 _Bitty:_  
_wasn’t sure about it before but I think I do haha_  
_…I’d be down for experimenting some time ;)_

Kent swallows, flicking his eyes to his watch. It’s nearly midnight, and there’s a slim chance, but he hasn’t slept with Bitty since Bitty had ordered Kent to meet with him in the break room a couple of weeks ago (and then Bitty had locked the door and sucked Kent so hard he’d nearly cried, _God_ ). And he really, really misses Bitty, even more now that they’ve been casually texting every now and then, even more now that Bitty wants a fucking _threesome_.

So he’s going to take the chance, even if it screams against his self-preservation instinct, the one that’s telling him that if he acts too interested he’s going to get burned. Fuck it, he wants Bitty, and—there’s no harm in asking, is there?

_Kent:  
are you home yet?_

_Bitty:_  
_No, about to leave work_  
_Why?_

_Kent:  
wanna come over?_

_Bitty:  
Kenttt it’s like, almost midnight_

Oh fuck, he’s gonna say no, isn’t he? Kent’s heart sinks.

_Kent:  
lol so?_

_Bitty:_  
_I must be insane_  
_I’m going to miss out on so much sleep aren’t I??_

His pulse quickens. He hears the tinny noise of recorded applause from his TV and chuckles, because it’s fitting for the way he feels, because thank _fuck_.

_Kent:  
is that a yes??_

_Bitty:_  
_Fine okay yes, Lord_  
_But I’m not going home after_  
_Also you have to fuck me_  
_;)_

Holy shit. Hooooly shit.

 _Kent:_  
_fuck wow yeah i’m not going to say no to that_  
_you have my address from last time right?_

 _Bitty:_  
_sure do :)_  
_all righty I’m hopping in the car now, see ya soon_

Kent’s going to get to fuck Bitty, _God_ —he’s already hard and Bitty’s not even here yet, won’t be here for the twenty minutes it’ll take him to drive here from work. He stands, pacing back in forth in front of his couch for a minute before heading towards the bedroom—he may as well make sure it’s at least somewhat clean. He throws all the clothes scattered over the floor into the hamper, then debates making the bed—yeah, he probably should, since they usually fuck on top of the covers anyway.

 _Usually_ , he’s already thinking to himself, even though they’ve only been together like five or six times—which, well. To be fair, that’s actually a lot more often than he goes for with casual sex. Not that he thinks of Bitty _casually_ anymore, but that’s a different issue, one that he’s not going to obsess over right now because Bitty’s going to be right here soon, kissing him, letting Kent press inside him— _fuck_ , he’s so hard.

There’s a knock on the door and he jumps up, trotting through his short hallway to answer it. Bitty’s standing outside, chewing on his lip and looking somewhat uncertain—which surprises Kent because Bitty usually seems confident when it comes to sex. “Hey,” he says, and Bitty gives him a little smile.

“Hey,” Bitty says back. And then Kent can’t take it anymore because Bitty still looks disheveled—from _Jack_ , Jack is the one who mussed his hair and made his lips red like that, fuck—so Kent pulls him inside and shuts the door, pressing him against it. And then Bitty’s skin is warm on his even through their clothes, and they need to get those _off_ —but first he needs to kiss Bitty, and Bitty leans up into it eagerly and oh, oh, Kent loves this. He slips his tongue into Bitty’s mouth, moaning at the slick, cool feel of Bitty’s tongue on his, and then it’s back to close-mouthed kisses, harder than before as Bitty fists his hands into Kent’s hair.

When Kent finally has to pull away to breathe, he can’t help but smile down at Bitty because shit, Bitty’s looking at him with widened eyes and flushed cheeks and Kent needs him so much. “I’d offer you a drink or something, but—I kind of wanna just take you straight to bed,” he admits huskily.

Bitty grins at him then, the slightest edge of teasing in his eyes. “Well then take me there, Mr. Parson.”

“Oh, I’ll take you,” Kent says, then snickers as Bitty flicks him in the arm.

Kent slips his hand into Bitty’s and pulls him down the hallway, and he gets the strangest sense of déjà vu—a different hallway, though, and a different hand. Jack. But then he looks beside him and it’s Bitty he sees, and that’s all right with him, because he thinks he’d rather have Bitty’s hand in his than anyone else’s.

“I can’t believe you suggested a _threesome_ ,” he murmurs, pushing open the door to his room and flopping down on the bed.

“That’s okay, right?” Bitty asks, looking elated nonetheless. He climbs on top of Kent, framing Kent’s waist with his knees and pressing his ass down against Kent’s cock, making Kent gasp in a way he hopes is attractive. Then Bitty leans down and kisses him again, scrabbling at Kent’s shirt, and Kent leans up so he can take it off.

“Of course it is. But—I was wondering,” Kent starts, helping Bitty out of his shirt too, “Uh, why?”

“Why what?” Bitty tilts his head, running his fingers up and down Kent’s chest, and fuck that’s making it hard to think.

“Why—the threesome?” he says quietly, rolling his hips upward against Bitty’s and catching Bitty in a moan.

“Mmn—why wouldn’t I want that?” Bitty asks him seriously, scooting down Kent’s legs so he can fumble with the fastener to Kent’s jeans.

“I—because, I dunno. It seemed kinda private between you two,” is the best way Kent can put it without outright asking _‘aren’t you in love with him?_ ’

Bitty pauses, his fingers hooked into Kent’s waistband. “I mean—it’s kind of private between you and I too, isn’t it? But I figured neither of you would mind, since we’ve all fucked separately, you know,” Bitty shrugs one arm, and the fucking sexy way the work _fucked_ rolls off of his lips is enough to make Kent accept his answer for now.

“Want me to open you up?” Kent says, as Bitty starts pulling his pants and boxers down.

“ _Mnn_ ,” Bitty moans, looking up at him with wide eyes. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Good,” Kent grins at him, and then he reaches for the drawstring to Bitty’s shorts.

They end up with Bitty on his back against the pillows, legs spread wide and Kent between them with a lube-slick hand. And he’s good at this, he knows he is—he wants to show Bitty how good he is and so he does, edging the first finger in so slowly that Bitty’s a whimpering mess by the end of it. Bitty’s still loose from earlier with Jack, and Kent could go faster if he wanted, but he wants to do it this way and Bitty’s reactions aren’t doing anything to change his mind.

“You don’t hafta go—so Goddamned slowly,” Bitty whines. “I ain’t fragile— _oh_ ,” he gasps, as Kent slips the tip of a second finger in.

“I know you aren’t,” he says, stroking his other hand up and down Bitty’s thigh. “But you make me beg all the time—figured I’d give it a try,” he winks.

“Oh my _God,_ ” Bitty says, dropping his head back and staring up at the ceiling, his cheeks blazing red. “You’re— _Kent_.”

“If you really don’t want to, you don’t have to,” Kent says carefully, because Bitty had said _experimenting_ but Kent’s really not sure how far he wants to go.

“I—I’ll try,” Bitty says, his voice trembling.

“Bitty,” Kent’s brow wrinkles. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Bitty says, and then he smiles so Kent knows it’s true.

“Okay,” Kent says, and it’s there while he’s staring at Bitty, two slick fingers deep in Bitty’s ass that he realizes—fuck. This is more than just the sex. He _likes_ him. And it’s something he’d known in the back of his mind already, but now with Bitty squirming against him, he’s confronted by just how much he wants to curl up with Bitty in his arms and never let go.

He’s so fucked.

To take his mind off of it all, he presses his fingers in just a little bit further, finds Bitty’s prostate, and—“ _Kent!_ ” Bitty jerks, voice a tortured whimper.

“Tell me how it feels, baby,” Kent says, and then he wonders if he should be using nicknames like this but fuck it, he’s already all in.

“I—Lord, Kent, it—I can feel you—your fingers, and it— _oh God_ ,” Bitty sobs, and he’s already starting to look wrecked, his face red and his chest heaving.

Kent pulls his fingers back, starts adding a third, and Bitty’s shaking as he does it. “Are you okay?” he has to ask again. “You bottom for clients, right?” Because Bitty had said he’d bottomed for Jack earlier, but that’s _Jack_.

“Y-yeah,” Bitty shivers, biting his lip. “I bottom, but—this feels different, cuz you’re going so slow—it doesn’t normally happen like this.”

Kent kisses his knee. “You like me having my way with you?”

Bitty groans. “I—God, yes. _Kent_ ,” he squirms, clenching around Kent’s fingers as Kent presses against his prostate again. “Kent, fuck me, please, fuck me,” Bitty babbles, and it knocks the breath out of Kent.

“What was that?” he asks, feigning ignorance.

Bitty huffs a desperate sigh. “Please put your fucking dick in me, Kent, I _swear_ ,” he fists his hands into the blanket.

Kent laughs. “You’re not begging very nicely, you know. You make me beg nicely all the time.”

“ _Kent,”_ Bitty says, and then Kent strokes deliberately against his prostate and his hips nearly shoot off the bed. “Please. _Please_.”

“Okay, okay,” Kent murmurs, hiding his smile in Bitty’s knee. He pulls his fingers from Bitty, cock pulsing at the thought that fuck, he’s going to be inside him soon, just like Jack was only hours before, _shit_. Plucking a couple of condoms from where he’d stuck them on the side of the bed, he tosses one to Bitty and rolls one on himself before kneeling in front of him again. “Like this all right?”

“Mhmm,” Bitty whimpers, and Kent takes a moment to just _look_ at him, splayed out lovely over Kent’s bed, knees drawn up for him, God.

He leans forward, presses Bitty’s knees all the way to his chest and positions himself so that he’s pushing against Bitty’s entrance, and then his eyes involuntarily squeeze shut as he presses the head of his cock in—“ _Fuck_ ,” he sighs, “You’re so fucking tight, Bits.”

He opens his eyes and sees Bitty staring at him, mouth rounded into an ‘o’. “Kent,” Bitty says in a whisper. “Kent.”

“Hmm?” Kent says, pushing in just a bit further, and _fuck_ , you wouldn’t think Bitty had just bottomed a few hours ago from just how fucking tight he is around Kent.

“Fuck me please,” Bitty whimpers, and Kent reaches up to push a sweaty strand of hair away from Bitty’s eyes.

“Aren’t I already?” Kent raises an eyebrow, and then he pushes until he bottoms out and can’t hold back a breathy groan. Fuck, Bitty. Fuck.

One of Bitty’s hands comes to rest over Kent’s, and Kent turns his wrist so that he can hold Bitty’s hand against the pillow. “I need—Kent, harder, _please_ ,” Bitty moans.

Kent can’t help but stare down at Bitty’s face, flushed and undeniably full of arousal. “God, you’re beautiful,” he says, and maybe he shouldn’t have but it’s so fucking true, he can’t hold back— _fuck_ , Bitty’s going to be the death of him.

Bitty lets out a surprised laugh. “Jack says that a lot,” he murmurs, and Kent feels a zing of pain in his chest because even now, Bitty’s thinking of Jack. God, Kent can’t even compare, can he?

But then Bitty leans up and kisses him, and—at least Bitty’s with him now, letting Kent fuck him. At least Kent has this.

So Kent speeds up like Bitty wants him to, and he’s rewarded with a long, high keen from Bitty’s throat. “ _Kent_ ,” Bitty says, slinging his arm over his eyes.

Kent reaches up and nudges Bitty’s arm away. “Want you to look at me. You okay with that?” he asks, because even if Bitty might be thinking of Jack right now, Kent at least wants to see his face.

“I am—just—it’s so—“ Bitty flushes further. “It’s so much, Kent, I’m—Lord, I’m embarrassed, fuck—and, now I’m babbling— _Kent_ , oh God, you’re so good, I’m gonna come—“

“ _Fuck_ ,” Kent says, and then he crushes his mouth against Bitty’s as his orgasm takes him by surprise, shooting through his body like a lightning strike. He shudders through the wet pulsing heat around his cock, biting back a sob as Bitty clenches harder and comes just afterwards, squirming beneath him, crying out as Kent holds him through it.

Pulling out of Bitty feels like a crime, he misses it so much. But Bitty is smiling up at him, still shaky, and hey, Kent can deal with this.

“You all right?” he murmurs to Bitty.

Bitty nods sleepily, gazing back at him with warm eyes. “That was—really intense. But nice,” he says, and Kent leans forward and presses a kiss to his forehead.

“Did you like it?” he asks.

“I did,” Bitty says, then tilts his head. “Did you?”

“I liked looking at you,” Kent says, then has to look away because _fuck_ that was sappy and he should _not_ be saying things like that. “And, um. You were moaning a lot, too.”

“You called me beautiful,” Bitty sits up, grinning at him.

Kent flushes. “Yeah, so?”

“I liked it,” Bitty says.

 _Because it reminds you of Jack_ , Kent thinks. Instead he leans over and kisses Bitty’s cheek, lingering there for as long as he can without it feeling too sentimental. “You said you weren’t going home, right?” He starts dragging himself out of the bed so he can clean up.

“I can leave if you really want me to,” Bitty says, standing up beside him and pulling his condom off and into the trash.

Kent turns to him in surprise as he cleans himself off. “And miss out on morning sex? Who the hell does that?” God, he doesn’t want him to leave.

Bitty blinks at him. “Us, apparently,” he laughs. And okay, neither of them have really stuck around for the night before, but that doesn’t mean Kent’s never _wanted_ to.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Kent puts an arm around Bitty so that Bitty steps in close, pressing warm and slightly sweaty against Kent’s side. “I’ll make you breakfast.”

“You any good at cooking?” Bitty gives him a slight smirk, and Kent smirks back.

“I make a mean batch of eggs, you know.”

“We’ll see about that.”

In the end, it turns out Bitty is way better at cooking than Kent is.

But Kent doesn’t even care, because he’d just spent the night with Bitty snug in his arms and he’s kind of on top of the world.

xXx

“Bits!” Bitty hears. He looks up from his seat in the breakroom and is slightly surprised to see Kent waving at him from the doorway

“What’re you doing here?” Bitty asks, standing. He breaks into a smile as Kent immediately walks over to hug him—and wow, Kent’s _hugging_ him, warm and soft like Bitty had wanted to so badly a month ago, like he’d held back from until the last minute because he’d thought maybe Kent wouldn’t want it—and gosh, this is so nice. Just for a moment, he lets himself relax completely into Kent’s arms. He could get used to this.

“Just filled out some paperwork for Lardo. Thought I’d see if you were around,” Kent slowly pulls back, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Bitty feels warm at the thought of Kent looking specifically for _him_ , gosh. “Well, I am around,” he grins. “But if you’re soliciting me for sex then you’re gonna have to wait a bit, cuz I gotta go home first.”

“What? You don’t want to see me? I’m hurt,” Kent pouts playfully, and Bitty snorts and gives him a look.

“Kent Parson, we literally ate breakfast together this morning. Of course I want to see you,” Bitty tells him. “I just have to go eat something. And change,” he adds without thinking.

“Change? Why? I mean—maybe I’m making assumptions here, but aren’t we planning on getting you dirty again?” Kent grins suggestively.

“I—“ Bitty starts, and then he thinks about _why_ he was going to change and feels his cheeks immediately redden. “Um.”

“What?” Kent cocks his head.

“I’m—I’m kinda. I’m wearing panties right now, so. I was gonna change out of those?” Bitty lowers his voice, even though there’s no one in the break room with them and the chances of having someone overhear him are slim.

Kent’s jaw drops. For a second he doesn’t say anything, and Bitty thinks it’s worth the embarrassment to have struck him speechless. “Bits—“ he says finally, but then stops and shakes his head.

“It’s for a regular who’s into that, you know, nothing special—I mean, I don’t mind it but I don’t love it either? But he tips me more when I do it anyway,” Bitty rambles for a second, but cuts off when Kent gives a soft little sigh—and _oh_ , he gets it now. “I—I can, um. I can keep them on if you want?” he suggests quietly.

Kent gives a short little nod. “Shit— _please_ ,” he says, and that’s his _begging_ voice and oh God, Bitty feels arousal start to swirl in his groin.

“Then—I can go home with you? If you’ll feed me,” he says, and Kent gives the same sharp nod, turning immediately toward the doorway.

Kent only speaks to offer Bitty a ride, and then he practically whisks Bitty into his car, pulling out toward his own apartment without a word. It feels uncharacteristically silent on the way there, but not awkward—charged is a better word for it, charged with tension and arousal and the way Kent keeps shooting little glances over at Bitty when he’s not busy driving.

As they finally walk into Kent’s apartment, Kent makes a little noise that Bitty soon realizes is indecision because Kent is looking back and forth between the kitchen and the bedroom.

“I’m not _that_ hungry?” Bitty offers, and Kent gives him a startled grin.

“So—?” Kent says, jerking his head toward the bedroom, and Bitty follows him as they make their way there.

“You’ve been quiet,” Bitty observes, pulling his shirt off while Kent shuts the door.

Kent comes over and pushes Bitty backward until Bitty’s sitting on the edge of the bed, tracing his eyes over Bitty’s chest. “I—I was afraid I’d say something I’d regret.”

“Like begging?” Bitty asks, and Kent nudges him further onto the bed until he’s in a position where Kent can easily straddle him.

“Yeah—kinda. God, I wanna see, Bits. I’d do—things that I probably shouldn’t suggest, I—fuck. I didn’t know I thought that was hot,” Kent whines.

Bitty bites his lip because the look Kent is giving him right now is an expression he’s seen on Jack before—and it looks something like devotion, even though Bitty knows that can’t be right for either of them. “If you wanna look, then how come you’re sitting on me?” he asks, sliding his hand up under Kent’s shirt nonetheless.

“Cuz I wanna kiss you senseless first,” Kent says, and that sets Bitty’s heart pounding even though they’ve kissed so many times before—and then Kent’s kissing him, crushing their mouths together, and oh, _oh_.

For some reason, Bitty’s always assumed that Kent wouldn’t want to date him—it’s the way he holds himself around Bitty, like he’s trying to be careful not to make Bitty like him too much. But the way Kent’s sliding his hands over Bitty’s bare chest, slipping them around to his back—it feels almost possessive, and Bitty really, really likes it. He really likes Kent.

Kent pulls back, spit trailing between their lips. “I—I wanna see, now,” he says huskily.

Bitty nudges upwards with his hips. “Get off me then,” he laughs, and Kent grins at him, climbing off and perching at the edge of the bed.

“Want me to strip?” Kent asks, and Bitty nods at him to go ahead, moving to stand in front of Kent while Kent shimmies out of his clothes.

“Okay,” Kent murmurs. He’s hard already, cock as flushed as the rest of him, and Bitty can see that his breath is coming fast—oh goodness. Kent’s so sexy, Bitty can’t—Bitty doesn’t know _how_ Kent keeps coming back to someone like Bitty because fuck, Kent could be a model, and yet Kent’s staring at Bitty like he’s the sexiest person in the world right now.

Bitty licks his lips, hooking his fingers into the waistband of his shorts and pulling them slowly down.

He straightens up, and—“Oh, _Bits_.” Kent’s staring at him, mouth half open, eyes skating over the pale cream lace of the boyshorts Bitty’s wearing. Bitty flushes, feeling more vulnerable than usual, halfway to being hard in a way he knows makes the lace stretch around him.

“Do you—um, like them?” he asks softly.

Kent’s eyebrows shoot up. “Like them? Bits, you’re fucking—God. You’re gorgeous, okay?”

“Oh,” Bitty’s heart hammers warmly in his chest. “T-thank you.” Kent thinks he’s gorgeous. Kent’s making him feel so attractive, and Bitty’s veins are racing with how pleased he feels—Kent wants him. If nothing else, there’s that.

“Can you, uh, turn?” Kent asks, rotating a finger in the air, and Bitty complies, turning on his heel so his ass is facing Kent. He hears a soft moan from behind him, and he looks over his shoulder and Kent’s got a hand pressed to his cock. “God, I wanna touch you, _please_ ,” Kent says desperately.

Bitty nods immediately. “Kent—I always want your hands on me, you know?” he admits, feeling brave, and Kent’s hands fly to Bitty’s hips.

“That’s good, cuz I always wanna touch you,” Kent says roughly.

Then he’s squeezing Bitty’s ass, pressing light kisses all over where the lace meets Bitty’s thighs, making little sighs and moans until Bitty is definitely, definitely hard. Kent turns him around then, kissing his lace covered hip, then moves to stare at Bitty’s cock, eyes hazy with lust.

“I—fuck. I wanna lick your dick with these on, but—fuck. Not safe,” Kent groans, pulling Bitty closer and pressing his face into Bitty’s stomach.

Bitty winds a hand into Kent’s hair, stroking lightly, because fuck that sounds _really_ hot. But—“I know,” he whines, sighing. “I really wish you could.”

“I’ve got dental dams, but that would probably be kinda shitty with the lace,” Kent looks up at him, the light stubble on his chin brushing against Bitty’s stomach. An image flashes into Bitty’s mind of having Kent lick him other places, of that stubble scraping against his thighs, and he lets out a soft whimper.

“Gonna have to take them off,” Bitty twists his lips.

“Yeah,” Kent sighs, sitting back so Bitty can tug them off. “Hey, can I—um, keep them?” he asks, looking tentative.

Bitty blushes. “I’ll have to buy more.”

“I can buy you more.”

“Kent—“ Bitty says, then has to look away because Kent wants to _buy_ things for him, and Kent’s looking at him so intensely, God. “Okay,” he whispers.

Kent grins a little ruefully. “Sorry, that’s weird, isn’t it?”

“Nah, not really,” Bitty shakes his head, sitting next to him on the bed. He reaches down and picks up the panties, handing them to Kent, who gives him an embarrassed smile and stands to go put them on top of his dresser.

Then Kent walks over and opens the drawer to his nightstand. “I could still use one of these if you want,” he smirks, pulling out a small box of dental dams.

Bitty shivers, because he _knows_ what Kent is thinking, fuck. “Y-yes,” he nods, and then he squints at the box. “Did you take those from work?”

Kent laughs. “Yeah, I mean—they’re always telling us to stay safe, so I figured they wouldn’t mind,” he shrugs, opening the box and pulling one out.

“True,” Bitty chuckles. Eyeing Kent with a smirk, he crawls closer, turning around so he’s on all fours with his ass arched toward Kent. “Well, come on over here then, Mr. Parson,” he drawls.

Kent nearly drops the box in his haste to comply.

xXx

Bitty stays the night again, of course, because Kent had given him a ride and he’d need Kent to get back to work anyway. Not that Kent minds, obviously.

He’s not expecting Bitty to come over again the night after, but then it’s eleven at night and Kent’s lounging on his couch and he gets a text from Bitty that says ‘ _Was thinking about you eating me out last night… ;)’_ and Kent fucking loves sexting but he’d much rather have the real thing. So he invites Bitty over and that’s that; Kent makes him dinner and then they blow each other in the shower and Kent falls asleep with Bitty clean in his arms.

And then it just—keeps happening. One night they’re chatting in the break room so late that the janitor has to shoo them out to clean, and Bitty ends up in Kent’s car, bright-faced and sparkling with mirth. The next night Kent texts him because nothing’s on TV and he’s bored out of his mind, and Bitty’s over before he can even bother to move from the couch.

One evening they spend a few hours actually _talking_ about what they want in bed. Bitty fetches both of their files from Lardo before they leave work and they pore over them, Bitty blushing over almost every sentence, Kent himself feeling vulnerable as he whispers additions in Bitty’s ear, things he doesn’t want clients to do but thinks would be all right with Bitty—he kind of wants Bitty to tie him up and call him a slut and maybe even spank him. That conversation has Bitty climbing into his lap, because—“You know I don’t really think you’re a slut, right, Kent?”

“I know,” Kent murmurs, looking away. “It’s just—I dunno. I’ve always kinda thought about it.”

Bitty nods, pressing a kiss to his cheek and leaving Kent’s skin burning where Bitty’s lips had been. “I’ll do it, if you want. I just wanted to make sure you knew.”

“Okay,” Kent smiles breathlessly at him, and that night Bitty ties his hands loosely to the bed and calls him a slut and holds him tight afterwards as Kent comes back down.

They’ll work their way up to the spanking.

Another night is spent watching Jack play hockey—the Aces are on, and Kent does his best to explain everything that’s happening to Bitty as they watch, laughing and munching on popcorn. Jack scores a goal in the third period and both of them jump off the couch, screaming with elation and pride—and then Bitty jumps into Kent’s arms, laughing, and it’s so fun, God. Kent wishes he could have this for the rest of his life.

It’s two weeks before they hit a night where Bitty doesn’t come over.

Kent had _wanted_ to text him, but he can’t shake the feeling that he’s monopolizing Bitty’s time. So tonight he doesn’t, and Bitty doesn’t text him either, and then Kent goes to bed with his heart in his throat because he wants Bitty next to him, body warm at his side, eyes bleary with sleep. He misses it so much that it physically hurts, like a boulder sitting on his chest, crushing him.

It’s three in the morning when he admits that he can’t sleep. Annoyed, he eyes his phone.

Bitty’s probably asleep. He shouldn’t.

But Kent is shit at talking himself out of doing stupid shit, so he reaches over for the phone and thumbs in a text, pressing send before he can go back on his decision.

_Kent:  
hey, you awake?_

No response.

He’s asleep.

Kent sighs, rolls over, and that’s when his phone buzzes.

 _Bitty:_  
_yeah :\_  
_you too?_

Swallowing down a spark of nervousness, because it’s three in the fucking morning and both of them have performance reviews tomorrow, he wildly thinks through replies in his head.

_Kent:  
yeah. a little lonely_

God, he sounds desperate, doesn’t he? Fuck, fuck, he shouldn’t have sent that, but then—

 _Bitty:_  
_honestly, me too_  
_can I come over?_  
_it’s okay if it’s too late though_

Kent’s heart speeds in his chest. God, yes. He wants Bitty with him so much it’s almost a _need_ , and it’s not even sexual—he just wants to hold him, and fuck, he’s so fucking gone.

_Kent:  
nah it’s not too late, come on over_

Then Kent waits, checking the time so often that he finally has to take his watch off because time’s not moving any faster—but then he just resorts to checking it on his phone which isn’t really any better. When Bitty finally knocks on the door, Kent trots over to answer it and Bitty falls straight into his arms. “Bits—hey,” Kent murmurs, squeezing him tight, then pulls back to stare at him, mapping out the tired lines on his face. “You look exhausted.”

“I am,” Bitty nods, falling back into Kent’s chest for a moment more. “Sleep?”

“Yeah, of course,” Kent says, locking the door back and leading him into the bedroom. They crawl into bed and Bitty takes the right side because that’s the side he always takes, and Kent realizes that even with Bitty gone earlier Kent had stayed on the left even though he normally just sprawls out everywhere. He’s so fucked.

He’s dozing off when Bitty speaks, voice soft with tiredness. “Thought you were too busy to talk to me,” he murmurs.

“No,” Kent says, tugging him closer, wishing over everything that Bitty could love him like he so obviously loves Jack. “Never too busy.”

“Okay,” Bitty mumbles, giving him a small smile, and they both fall asleep.

It doesn’t hit Kent until halfway through the next morning that Bitty had come and left and they hadn’t had sex; they hadn’t even taken their clothes off. It stops him in the middle of doing his laundry—because God, what are they doing? They’re just supposed to be friends, fuck-buddies at best—and Bitty is _Jack’s_.

Slowly, he folds his shirts, putting them in the drawer and thinking that he really should ask Bitty about Jack.

Maybe if he steels himself for it, it won’t hurt as much.

That night, Kent’s sitting on the couch in his usual spot and Bitty’s lolling in the armchair, curled onto his side. Neither of them are really paying attention to whatever show is on TV; Kent’s watching Bitty and pretending he’s not, and Bitty’s on Twitter on his phone.

Both of them have worked most of the way through a beer, so without thinking too much about it, Kent feels loose enough to open his mouth. “How do you feel about Jack?”

Slowly, Bitty blinks up at him, lowering his phone and his beer bottle dangling from his fingers. “Huh?”

“I mean, you obviously like him a whole lot,” Kent shrugs, averting his eyes. “I was just wondering.”

“Um, okay,” Bitty says, pursing his lips. “I—well, I do like him a lot. No complaints on the business side, and—you know how he is in bed,” he says wryly, and yes, Kent does know. He still thinks about it sometimes, when he’s had a beer or two and Bitty hasn’t come over just yet. “He gets so focused sometimes, like, laser-focused, and having all that attention on me—it’s really intense,” Bitty continues. “God, he’s amazing, and he makes me feel…” he rolls over onto his back in the chair, sighing. “He called my butt nice once and I’ve felt perkier ever since. Isn’t that dumb?”

“Oh come on,” Kent says. “You’ve gotta hear that all the time.”

“Not… not really,” Bitty says, looking a little embarrassed. “I guess, maybe you do. But people are mostly focused on my… other parts.”

“What?” Kent exclaims, almost surprised by his own vehemence. “What, excuse me, we are talking about the same butt, right? Round, perfectly muscled, attached to you? That butt? How are people not complimenting it all fucking day?”

“Well, I guess,” Bitty mutters, sinking further into his chair.

“Nope, c'mon, over here. Butt inspection. Gotta make sure I’m not losing it.”

Bitty giggles, rolling over to finish off his drink, and when Kent wriggles his fingers to motion him over he squirms out of his chair and moves over, pertly standing next to Kent and bending himself over the end table as though Kent were a demanding client.

“Hm,” Kent says, cupping a handful of Bitty’s ass in each palm. He judiciously runs his hand down one side, squeezing the other. “Yes, very nice. Mhmm. You’ve got some grade-A man-flesh here, Mr. Bittle.”

Kent’s just leaned forward to press a kiss just above the waistband of Bitty’s pants (which are a little lower than they would have been without some help from Kent’s hands) when Bitty says, “It’s still not as nice as—his.”

Kent freezes, then kisses Bitty’s backside and says, “You have to understand that you’re comparing yourself to literally one of the most monumental asses on the continent.”

“Oh, says you,” Bitty protests.

Kent leans back. “No way, nuh-uh. I am far from alone. I’m grabbing my laptop and proving it to you.”

He rescues his laptop from his bedroom, settling down on the couch next to Bitty. Even in Incognito mode his browser is still a bit too fast to suggest a search for ‘ _Jack Zimmermann butt_ ’, the fucking traitor. Bitty doesn’t say anything as Kent flips to Image Search; his usually quite sharp eyes are round at what he’s seeing. “Oh gosh,” he says, leaning over to press the page down button. “Who knew we had so much competition?”

Dammit, Kent had been trying not to think about that, about competing with Jack—because every way he imagines it, he knows he’d lose. He puts the computer on the armrest, fighting the melancholy that threatens to sit in his chest and gently tugging Bitty into his lap. Bitty, still a bit entranced by the search results, goes easily, melting into him like it’s nothing, nothing at all that they’re talking about Jack and he’s sitting in Kent’s lap nonetheless.

Kent winds his arms around Bitty, resisting the urge to sigh. “You wanna tell me,” he breathes in Bitty’s ear, “what fucking that ass is like?” Because if they talk about sex, they’re on solid ground, and Kent knows where he stands in at least that.

Bitty shivers, reaches for the laptop to scroll a little. One of the results is naked; no telling if it’s actually Jack or not, though. Well, not for Kent; Bitty might know. He’s certainly seen it often enough.

“He, um,” Bitty says, and his breath catches slightly as Kent nuzzles at his neck. He’s quiet for a minute, putting a hand over the one Kent has on his chest as Kent kisses down into his shirt collar, then he reaches down and loosens the button on his pants.

Kent kisses his way back up his neck as his hand slides lower. “He…?” He prompts.

“He, uh.” Bitty jumps as Kent’s hand brushes against his cock, wraps around it. And then Bitty begins speaking, softly but in a rush. “He spreads his legs. So wide. Like, he’s so desperate. Oh. He’ll—he. Comes from so little but he likes it to last, likes it to take forever. Until it hurts. Yeah. Yeah, Ken–God, Kent, yeah, oh—”

“Wanna take turns?” Kent breathes into Bitty’s ear. He has to lean forward; Bitty’s head is thrown back, mouth gaping as he pants for breath. Kent’s fisting his cock now, faster than he knows Bitty goes by himself, and they’re talking about Jack but in this moment it’s only Kent doing this to Bitty, making him come undone, and he’s a little proud of that. “I’ll finish with him right when you’re ready to go again.”

“ _Ah_!” Bitty cries, and then he comes all over Kent’s hand, squirming in his lap in a way that has Kent gritting his teeth because he’s so hard. It takes Bitty a minute before he can say, “You gamed the timing on that one.”

“Please, tell me it wasn’t a brilliant idea,” Kent grins, wiping his hand off with a tissue.

Bitty turns around, eyeing him. “I’m sure I could do the same to you, suggest something right when you’re coming.”

Kent leans back against the couch, not bothering to pretend that he’s not really fucking turned on, reaching out and moving the hair from Bitty’s eyes in the way he knows Bitty likes. “Why bother with the stage choreography? I am a perfect slut where Jack Zimmermann is concerned, especially when paired with you.” He’s not lying; the date of their threesome lurks nearer and nearer, and Kent is sort of terrified because he’s convinced himself that that’s when Bitty’s going to leave him, but—he also really wouldn’t mind seeing Jack again.

He does pretend like he’s not surprised and relieved when Bitty sways in and says against his lips, “And with just me, you are?”

“An asshole slut,” Parse answers cheekily, holding this moment in his mind as tightly as he’s holding Bitty in his lap. “But I’m always a slut for you.”

xXx

Three weeks of spending every night together and then their world is disrupted. Maybe it’s a good thing—Bitty’s MooMaw would say that he and Kent were moving way too fast, even though they haven’t put a name to anything but the sex.

At any rate, Mama calls him late one night to tell him that his great-uncle has died. Bitty hadn’t known him well, but Mama still wants him to go to the funeral, so he books his flight to Georgia, feeling miserable as he relays his plans to Kent. It’s only a night. They can live with that—Bitty’s just being silly.

It’s nice to see his parents, even though he can’t really talk about his job—they have no idea what he’s doing with himself. He’d lied and told them he was working at a bakery. Neither of them are internet savvy enough to think about Googling it.

Maybe it’s time to start looking at job postings again. It’s technically against the rules to be sleeping with coworkers anyway, although it’s not like anyone actually enforces that.

The one night he’s stuck there in Georgia, he lays alone in his childhood bedroom and pines harder than he’s ever remembered—he wishes Kent was there, wishes he could introduce him to his parents and show him all the relics of who Bitty used to be.

Kent’s told him things about himself, about his sister who he dotes on and his mother who thinks the world of him even though she knows all too well what he’s doing with his life. Bitty had even been there while Kent had Skyped her once, had waved a cautious hello and blushed at the twinkle in her eye when Kent had flung his arm around him. Neither of them had said anything explicit about their relationship, but Bitty could tell she’d thought they were dating.

And—are they? Bitty still doesn’t really know. He just knows that even with his old stuffed bunny at his side, he still feels lonely without Kent in his bed.

xXx

Kent, for one, doesn’t sleep a wink without Bitty there. At four in the morning, he slides grumpily out of bed, trudging into the living room and turning on the TV without bothering to hit the light switch. There’s absolutely fucking nothing on TV though, so he lies there with a rerun on of a show he’d never liked, staring at the armchair across the room and imagining Bitty in it, grinning at him coyly, beckoning him over like he had just a night ago.

This isn’t healthy. He knows it’s not, but his mind keeps racing because there’s not even a week until they see Jack, and then—who knows. Maybe Bitty really will leave him. He really fucking hopes Bitty won’t.

At five in the morning, he’s dozing fitfully when an ad for the local animal shelter comes on TV. It nearly makes him cry, because he’s a sucker for animals and one of the cats had looked just like the one he’d had as a kid, and also he’s kind of an emotional wreck right now so it’s not like he can help it.

By ten in the morning, he’s standing at the animal shelter door, hoping he doesn’t look like too much of a mess. A few hours later, he emerges with a cat that’s still scared of him—she’d been scared of everyone and everything, but she’d looked so lonely cowering in the corner of her cage that Kent had known from the get-go that she was it.

This will help, maybe. When Bitty leaves for good, Kent will be a little less alone.

When Bitty walks in that night, straight from the airport, Kent folds him into his arms and doesn’t let go for a very long time, until Kit starts mewling in distress at the newcomer and Bitty breaks away to exclaim at Kent’s new roommate.

xXx

Bitty’s laying on his side in Kent’s bed, waiting for Kent to dry off from their shower, mind whirling in circles. Their night with Jack is tomorrow. He’s going to see them both together, and somehow Jack’s going to be able to tell how close Bitty and Kent are, he just knows it.

And—that’s not a bad thing. Except that Bitty feels like he’s going to have to give Jack up, and even though that’s silly, even though he doubts Jack will dissolve his client contract—if Jack finds out that Bitty’s falling for Kent, he’s sure that any chance Bitty had with Jack is going to fall away. Jack is too cautious, too courteous to make a move on someone he feels is taken; Bitty can tell that easily from the amount of time they’ve spent together.

And that means that Bitty’s going to have to let go of Jack on his own.

It’s selfish, really. He’s so, so happy with Kent, happy to have someone to share a bed with, happy that Kent tells him he’s beautiful and strokes his hair and presses kisses to his forehead when he thinks Bitty’s asleep. Bitty’s falling hard for Kent, like a boulder down the side of a mountain, fast and with no sign of stopping. But Bitty’s liked Jack for so long that it’s become a part of who he is, and having to stop feels almost like a break-up even though it isn’t really because he and Jack were never together.

The bed dips as Kent climbs in. He hasn’t bothered to put clothes on, so when he presses in behind Bitty, it’s all smooth skin and warm, beating hearts. Bitty turns to face him, a lump in his throat and words brimming in his mouth, things like _I want to stay with you forever_ , things that he probably shouldn’t say just yet.

Instead Kent kisses him softly, just a lazy press of their lips together. “Excited for tomorrow?” Kent asks quietly.

Bitty thinks about it and nods, because he is, besides the nervousness. “I am. Um, you both are so, so hot. I kinda feel out of my league,” he admits, flushing. “Are—are you excited?”

Kent is silent for a moment, then he presses a kiss to Bitty’s cheek. Slowly, he says, “Yeah. I am.”

xXx

This is it. They’re sitting in Bitty’s client room, and in ten minutes Jack will walk in and Kent’s so fucking nervous he can’t sit still. Instead he’s pacing, trying his best to keep his breathing calm, and Bitty’s watching him with wide eyes.

Finally, Bitty stops him. “Kent,” Bitty says. “Come here.”

And Kent almost hates himself for it, but the simple act of the order makes his heart thump in a way that means he’s very nearly turned on. “Okay,” he says, and crawls onto the bed to sit next to Bitty.

Bitty pulls him close, kissing him leisurely, as if they have all the time in the world even if they don’t. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Kent replies on impulse.

Bitty gives him a look. “Kent…”

Kent sighs. “I’m—I dunno. Nervous. I guess—I’m afraid of not measuring up to one of you?” ‘One of you’ meaning Jack, obviously, but kind of Bitty too. He can’t help but want Jack to like him, especially since he hopes Bitty will want to keep Kent in his life after this.

Bitty tilts his head, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“I mean—you’re—“ Amazing, fantastic, gorgeous, anything, everything. “You’re sexy as hell, and so is he, and—I feel kind of like I’m intruding.”

“Of course not!” Bitty shakes his head, sitting up. “You—Kent, I don’t think you could ever intrude, at least for me. I told you before—I trust you to take care of him. And I trust you to take care of me too,” Bitty’s voice softens, and Kent loves him.

Kent loves him.

But Bitty loves Jack.

He feels like holes are being punched in his chest, little bits of unwanted Kent raining down like circles of paper from an elementary school project. If this keeps on, there will be nothing left of him because he’ll have given all of himself to Bitty, and when Bitty discards him Kent’s sure there won’t be anyone there to pick him up.

Maybe he should end it. Not in the way of breaking up, because thinking about turning Bitty down feels like an arrow through his heart—no, he can’t make Bitty sad, not at all.

But maybe if he suggests that Bitty and Jack get together, he’ll be able to end it all painlessly. It’ll be easier to watch them with smiles on their faces than to have either of them annoyed with Kent in the end. Like catalyzing a reaction, once it’s set in motion and he adds to the fire, it’ll go faster and faster until there’s no going back. But if he doesn’t help it happen, it’s going to drag on and possibly even explode in his face. That can’t happen. He needs Bitty to still like him after this is all over, and if he’s being honest, Jack too.

Catalysts don’t change when reactions happen; they stay the same, they’re left behind when something new is made. In the same way, Kent will stay in love with Bitty for a long, long time, even as they move on without him. And he has to be okay with that.

Decision made, he licks his lips and smiles at Bitty. “I’ll take care of you for as long as you want me to,” he murmurs.

It’s the truth. It’s just that Bitty probably won’t want him anymore after tonight.

“Oh, Kent,” Bitty sighs, leaning up and kissing him, and if Kent didn’t know any better he could’ve swear that there’s love in Bitty’s eyes just before he closes them. They kiss and kiss, familiar but still new enough to be exhilarating, and Kent’s body is tingling from Bitty’s touch for maybe the last time.

And then Bitty smiles one of his brilliant smiles.

Kent swears that Jack has just walked into the room, but he turns to look and the door is still shut. Slowly, he turns back to Bitty, because it’s not Jack. No, the smile is for Kent, and he almost wants to cry because this is everything he’d wanted and now he’s going to have to let it go.

“Bits,” he whispers, cupping Bitty’s cheek in his palm, smiling back because it’s all he can do when Bitty’s smiling at him all lovely like this. God, he loves him.

Bitty chuckles, and the mood lightens. “If it helps, I worry about measuring up to him too. I mean, his ass…” he trails off suggestively, and Kent smirks.

“Remember when we Googled him?”

“Yeah, and you made me come all over myself,” Bitty flicks him, and Kent laughs.

“Next time,” he says, even though there won’t be a next time, “You can make me come all over myself instead. I promise I won’t mind,” he winks.

Bitty shakes with laughter until Kent catches on and laughs too, slinging his arm around Bitty and holding on for as long as he can.

The door opens, and Jack steps into the room.

The reaction starts.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Bitty reaches a hand out toward him. “Come on over.”

And Jack comes.

**Author's Note:**

> this story doesn't quite end happily on its own, but there's definitely a happy future for our boys <3
> 
> come chat about pb&j with me on [tumblr!!](http://omgpbandj.tumblr.com/)


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